Washed Up!
by SilverWillowMusic Inc
Summary: Greece gets shipwrecked on a stormy night, and Italy and Japan find some very... disturbing... things washed up on a beach. Two-shot, yaoi.
1. Aftermath Of A Storm

**[A/N] ****Well, here we have it. The first result of our Giripan request drive! Written **_**IN GREECE! **_** How cool is that?  
>Submitted by Cead, who writes the best Merlin fanfiction on this whole site. <strong>

**Hobbsie is away, so this chapter has been written and checked solely by Natsumi. :'( We'll update the chapter content as soon as she returns and edits it, but Natsumi had a deadline to publish this to. Apologies for any mistakes/typos.  
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**We don't own Hetalia. If we did, Prussia would have already ravished everyone senseless and America and France would be duelling over England. It would at least be a much higher rating than it is now ;)**

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><p>The sea here stretched for miles. Even as an island country well acquainted with coastal views, this one in particular never ceased to steal away Japan's breath. If he turned his eyes away from the open expanse of waves, his eyes fell upon the beautiful contrast of bright branches of pink bougainvillea stroking the walls of the whitewashed villa, with the serene brown hills and mountains fading into the sea mist as a backdrop. He could sit here forever; half-listening to the cicadas, feeling the breeze ruffling his hair and swaying through the trees like far-away waves. The villa perched on a hillside covered in terracotta roofs and olive groves, right at the top with the wind in its shutters and the water that failed to work so often.<p>

Apart from his own home, no other place, no other country in the world cold compare with this. It was one of the rare places he could truly relax in. He smiled, recalling Greece's own description of his holiday villa: "Forget Mount Olympus; the gods should have lived on that hill." In a way, he was right, but Japan was glad that he and his lover could have the place to themselves.

"Beautiful view."

Surprised, Japan glanced down at the man suddenly by his side. Greece had clearly only just woken up, and his hair resembled the feathers of a young bird, sticking out in all directions and quivering in the breathy wind. Secretly, the thought that this post-siesta sight was far more beautiful than the landscape before him crossed his mind, but he hid it for fear of seeming silly.

"I see you are awake – you were sleeping quite deeply, so I didn't wake you. Also, I must agree with you about the view. This place is truly special. If you wish, I can show you how to take a photo-"

Japan's offer was cut short by a smug smile from Greece, who was looking up at the shorter nation from his relaxed leaning position on the rails, his head pillowed by his arms. "Why are you smiling like that?" he asked cautiously, but Greece's lazy smile only widened.

"You misunderstood."

He seemed to (rightly) take Japan's bewildered expression as an invitation for further explanation. Taking his time as usual, he took a breath before continuing. "I was talking about the view of you… smiling so happily and… comfortably in my favourite place. You outshine the view, but Kiku, I believe you really… suit this place. You look at peace here… really pretty."

A rose-coloured blush dusted Japan's cheeks, as he found himself unable to reply. Greece was very much a man of few words (he couldn't really swear he had ever heard the man say more than eleven words without taking a long, deep breath or pausing), and that kind of thing- how could Greece say such things so easily? It was so charming, so sweet, but he himself could never be so bold. Greece must think him so cold, but really, Japan tripped and stumbled over words like that- words with such important meanings. It was too embarrassing.

Looking away from the eyes that could so easily disrupt his calm, his own alighted once more on the view of the sea. It brought back memories, so many memories of how they had first really met. They had seen each other at world meetings, obviously, but their first personal contact was far more dramatic, and soon led to the feelings he was experiencing now and everyday.

"Greece- Herakles, do you remember how we first met?"

As usual, his lover knew exactly the 'meeting' he was referring to – that of their true _selves_, rather than their countries and politics. Greece laughed slightly as he replied.

"You were on holiday here back then, too."

"Yes, and you were so…_dishevelled!_"

...

The blue water turned black, the sky shook and the waves began to tremble and roll along with the heavens. Greece, being one not known to scare easily (really, he could care less as long as he got a siesta), did not react immediately to the warning signs of the approaching storm. This was a mistake. Even his ever-present feline companions were losing their nerves. It's a known fact: cats _despise_ water. So, (cats + rusty old fishing trawler + rough sea) was not a sum that boded well. The chorus of whimpers from the corners where the cats hid was turning quickly into a cacophony of wails of distress as the ship's rocking became more pronounced. It rattled Greece's eardrums, but he did not move. He sat on his boat and _fished,_ even though his line was long gone, torn away by the churning sea. Unmoving, he stayed there, oblivious to the chaos around him.

And then, the ship overturned.

He was tossed into the steely waves. Plunged far into the black waves, he was trapped in a silent prison of foam and wreckage and bubbles under the water. He watched helplessly as his boat was ripped to pieces, scattered in the deep. However, he remained calm, and eventually made his way to the surface in a lazy fashion. Pretty much all Grecians are capable swimmers, most being raised near the sea or spending their summers at the coast. He would have happily floated there among the thunderous waves, if he hadn't heard that faint, heart-breaking noise.

Somewhere near him, a cat was crying in pain and distress.

His features contorted, and he flew into action (here we note that that was the first time the nation had moved with even a hint of urgency since he got into the whole predicament). Swiftly, he sped towards the sound, with the determination and speed of a true Olympic gold medallist. He caught the afflicted cat, almost pausing to cradle it before he remembered the others. Desperately, he searched in the storm for all of his dearest friends, until all were gathered and safe from the deadly water in a tiny raft he had constructed from the debris floating around them. Despite his strength as a nation, however, it was too much for him. With a small sigh of relief and a muttered prayer of thanks, he sank into a nap, still floating on top of the stormy waves effortlessly.

...

"Oooh, look, look, _LOOK_, Japan! I found the most gorgeousamazinglycuteawesome little seashell over here! And _guess_ what it looks like!"

Japan barely suppressed a small sigh of annoyance. It was the fifteenth 'superdupercool' or 'awesome' shell Italy had found in the past hour alone. Every time, he was forced to guess what it resembled. Thankfully, the game was easy; Italy somehow managed to liken everything to either Germany or pasta. Despite its simplicity, the game was no less irritating. _Calm, Kiku. Compose yourself._ Anyway. The last one has been Germany, so…

"Is it maybe _[pause as if thinking hard]_ a piece of pasta?"

A rare thing followed his statement – the Italian fell silent. Lower lip stuck fully out, arms folded across his chest, eyebrows furrowed – he looked exactly like a sulking child.

"You're too good at this game, Japan! It's no fun if you guess it right away! Please stop doing it or- or- or I'll tell Germany when we get home! I will!"

Japan disguised a grin, imagining Germany's reaction to such a complaint. He apologised deeply to Italy, promising not to do it again. But this time, he suggested, maybe Italy should search behind those rocks on the far, far away side of the beach? After the storm last night, there would surely be _something _interesting washed up there.

_At least it'll take him a good ten minutes to get there and back,_ he thought. Yes, it was impolite, but even Japan's nerves of steel were being steadily worn down by the hurricane of energy known as Italy.

As the brunette skipped away, Japan went back to his sitting position, observing the environment around him. Greece's land was lovely, and a Mediterranean beach as tranquil as this was not difficult to find on his coast. It was strange, however, that despite them holidaying in his land, Greece himself had not yet come to join them. Japan's understanding was that Italy had been the one to politely ask for a small holiday for two, and Greece had quickly consented. He had probably been subjected to those incredible puppy eyes. Not even Germany could resist him when faced with that look. Germany tried to avoid the eyes by doing things that would disappoint Italy remotely, usually by phone, but when he was next in the Italian's presence he would inevitably be treated with an adorable attempt at the cold shoulder. This time, Japan had been confronted at the last minute with the task of taking Germany's place on the trip to console Italy. Some disaster had happened involving Prussia and a possible economy collapse due to Prussia discovering eBay and his brother's credit card. So, to avoid the wrath of Italy (uke tears and sulking taken to extremes), Japan had been sent in as a sort of 'consolation prize'.

Yes, there had been sulking and it did come close to tears, but with the swift presentation of a bowl of spaghetti in a seaside restaurant, Italy had been calmed and now seemed to be enjoying the holiday thoroughly. And, thought it might not have been clear from his demeanour, Japan himself was also quite glad of it. It was not often that he came to Europe for something other than work. He welcomed the opportunity to experience such a beautiful country, but… well, so far he had not experienced much except beaches and restaurants. He did long, just a bit, to go taste some of the history of the famous nation, but Italy did not appear to share such feelings. "Japan, I've already seen them all, and I'd _much_ prefer to taste some of this great moussaka than history. Maybe another day, ve~?"

Sighing, Japan chose to stop thinking about it. Italy had accepted him as a last-minute guest and companion, so he should be more grateful. _Best to appreciate that which is currently before me._

But before he could appreciate anything, a thump sounded from the other side of the beach, combined with the furious yelp of a squashed cat.

Oh, dear… poor Italy must have tripped over one of the many cats hiding in the Greek landscape. He began to stand up to see if the cat was alright, only to hear a scream rip through the calm air from the fallen Italian, shearing the empty beach's serene aura in two.

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><p><strong>[AN]Yeah, it's short, I'm sorry.  
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**Chapter Two shall be released once Natsumi returns from Ireland, Hobbsie returns from Narnia**** and we both get our asses into gear to write it. And edit this one. Tee hee... -_-;;  
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**We're still collecting your requests (HUGE LOVE to all those that sent them in already, you guys are awesome) so please send us all your ideas, stupid or silly or downright weird. We'll take them all, and produce something beautiful. We hope. **

**Requests can be submitted by review or by private message if you're shy.**

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	2. Introductions

**[A/N] Chapter Two! Please enjoy. Then review and/or submit requests. We'll love you forever.  
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**We don't own Hetalia, that much is clear.  
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><p>Japan jumped to his feet, running towards the piercing screams sounding from Italy. He could see as he drew closer that the aforementioned nation was scrambling backwards from something, not stopping for breath as he wailed. Operating on autopilot from his secret training, Japan rushed straight to the distressed Italian and began checking him for wounds, until his hands were slapped away. Italy had thankfully ceased in his screams, but violent tremors and a complexion paler than the whitewashed walls of Santorini had replaced them. He raised his arm weakly, a hand covering his mouth as he pointed over Japan's shoulder.<p>

"Ca…cats…and a p-person – dead! A d-dead p-p-person!" he managed to stutter out.

Slowly, Japan turned around to face the horrific scene behind him. In his rush to tend to the noisy patient, he had forgotten to check the cause of unrest.

It looked like something from a low-budget psychological horror film. On his left, some kind of tiny raft lay on the beach, sticking out from the sand ominously. Even more disturbing was the circle… a circle of about twenty cats, now staring and hissing at him and Italy, baring their fangs in anger. And, in the centre of their cult-like ring – a vaguely human sized mound. Oh, no. It couldn't be… he had to check; maybe Italy was wrong in his assumptions.

Japan began to edge towards the ferocious felines, cooing and kissing at them, murmuring soft, soothing reassurances in his native tongue. Japan loved cats, and thus was quite accomplished at calming them. Slowly, slowly, they began to give in. The hissing quietened, and the posture of their backs relaxed. They were submitting to his charm, being taken in by this strange person. He was not their kind owner, but his presence had the same feeling of honest gentleness and safety.

With this, Italy watched Japan make his way into the demonic ring. He wanted to shout to his friend, to save him before the evil cats mauled and devoured him. But, his body was limp. He was stuck there, gibbering under his breath and shaking as the scary scene played out before him. Those cats… were creepy, so very creepy. Not at all like normal, sweet, fluffy cats. These were more like some sort of malicious spirits.

Now fully inside the circle, Japan shuffled towards the 'body'. It was definitely a man, quite tall and lying on his side. Gently, Japan brushed away the brown curls obscuring the man's face – and found it somewhat familiar. He studied the still features a moment longer, forgetting his first-aid training in his concentration. Finally, he reached a conclusion and announced it in a monotone for Italy.

"It's Greece. Greece has washed up on a beach – that would explain the cats…"

The silence only lasted a split second longer as the information processed in the Italian's mind.

_I really should not have told him_, thought Japan as he turned away from the (suddenly energised) man now sprinting up the beach, screeching in terror. Well, Italy was – as usual – overreacting. Nations like Greece don't just _die. _It's not really possible. In fact, as he thought that, a small noise came from the Greek at his feet. Immediately, Japan focussed once more on him, assessing the situation. A groan escaped Greece's salt-encrusted lips, as he appeared to… wake up? An arm rose lazily, covering vulnerable eyes from the harsh midday sun, and Greece began to shift. As he did, he yawned, and took a breath to speak to himself in his not-quite-conscious state. A single word escaped his lips.

"_Bleurgh._"

Choosing not to betray his presence quite yet, the island nation sat and watched the fascinating process of a shipwrecked Greece remembering the events of the previous night.

"Oh, _damn_. My favourite trawler – storm. Cats? Cats safe, location…?" Here he felt around, judging his environment by touch, eyes still shut. "Beach. Washed up? No immediate danger, so sleep is allowed. G'night, furry ladies and gentlemen."

But, before the poor guy could fall back into his nap (for his seemingly death-like state had merely been a deep, deep sleep), he was subjected to the sound of muffled laughter from his side. Opening one eye, he evaluated the small man on his left, shaking with laughter as if had never laughed before, like he would break. It was strange, the feeling of being watched and found humorous in one's sleep. He didn't know how to react, so… he didn't. He simply groaned in despair under his breath and rolled over, trying to ignore the intrusion on his slumber.

Eventually, the sounds of giggling ceased, and this puzzled Greece, so he turned back. He was, after all, slightly interested in his audience. His eyebrows rose minutely when he saw _his_ cats snuggling up to a complete _stranger._ The black-haired man seemed to have charmed the usually murderous creatures easily, petting them quietly. Greece made no comment, but chose to sit up. He had questions to ask, and from the look of his watcher's eyes when they flicked to his own, so did he.

They studied each other carefully, but the other man broke eye contact first, blushing unexplainably. Still looking away, he cleared his throat politely and took a breath to speak.

"I am sorry for my earlier rudeness, and for not introducing myself. You may remember me from World Conferences – I am the nation of Japan. I am currently staying in your country with Italy. Thank you for your hospitality up until now."

_Well, _he's_ reserved. _Greece stayed quiet, thinking, and after a few seconds, Japan (who did indeed look familiar) glanced up expectantly to Greece's eyes, before once again blushing and avoiding his gaze. It was puzzling. Greece leaned back, preparing to speak at length.

…

Japan only nodded, and waited politely for Greece to continue. He knew he was being rude – constantly staring then getting flustered when their eyes met. It was silly, and he couldn't think _why_ he was reacting so strangely. Well, Greece was looking very _messy,_ but also quite handsome. He hair was curling madly due to the salt, and his clothes were torn and disorganised, but it all came together to form some sort of… fine frenzy. He looked like a hero from some Greek myth (here Japan blushed yet again), all fine angles and nonchalant mess.

"Japan, who is that man screaming on the beach?"

Slightly surprised, Japan took a moment to remember the state of his companion before replying.

"Erm. That would be Italy – do you not remember him? He is quite a close neighbour of yours, and he did ask you personally about this holiday…"

Greece looked completely blank. His eyebrows slowly furrowed, as he seemed to ponder Japan's words. Finally, he looked up, and spoke in a serious tone.

"I must have repressed that memory."

Holding back laughter once more (how long had it been since he had had such an irresistible urge to laugh?), Japan watched as Greece yawned in a satisfied manner, then lay back to return to sleep. Italy once again forgotten, Japan also relaxed, wanting to watch for just a little longer. He didn't realise it then, but Japan was already captivated by the enigma of a man in front of him.

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><p>Something brushing against his fingers woke Japan from his reminiscing.<p>

"Hey, Kiku…"

He smiled enquiring, slightly distracted by the feeling of Greece's calloused fingers tracing patterns lazily on his own.

"Yes?"

"Since that day... you haven't changed... still so calm."

Japan looked away, smiling foolishly. Calm? To this day, when he was with Greece, his insides twisted and his blood rushed in his veins, his eyes begging to imprint those unruly features just a little deeper.

Yes, some things never have changed, and never will.

"Italy certainly wasn't calm. Remember how he sulked for six days straight, and then…"

Japan recounted the story, enjoying Greece's attentive smile, and the odd interjection as they remembered that time when they were little more than strangers.

The breeze carried the smell of citrus, and the sound of laughter trickled out from a little white villa, perched on top of a hill like a lady poised at the top of a grand staircase. It was a place of light, the kind that never changes, no matter how many times you visit. A place with walls seeped in memories.

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><p><strong>[AN] One request down! **

**Our little request drive has yielded many wonderful ideas, so many that it's becoming hard to choose just the best. We have a couple more lined up, but please keep submitting your ideas – they're really wonderful, and we are really thankful for the ones we've received so far. You guys are so cool!**

**Cead, we hope we met your criteria successfully. It was certainly fun to write, and if it's even a fraction as fun to read, then it can be said that we have achieved our goal.**

**Please review if we have – we'll treasure your opinions, even the flames.**

**Well, maybe not the flames.**

**Hobbsie and Natsumi, SilverWillowMusic.**


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